Page 61 of Heartstring

I take a swig of my beer and lean back against my seat. This is my third, so I’m feeling a lot more relaxed. We’ll have to leave soon to get back on the road, but Fox keeps asking for one more, and he’s so fucking adorable that no one dares to say no.

The strum of a guitar gets my attention as two guys go on stage. Their backs are turned to the audience. The guy playing the bass starts singing, and I’m surprised at how deep his voice is, considering how young he looks. From the back, at least.

The crowd closer to the stage goes mad. Even Stone, who’s usually not easily impressed, leans forward on the table, resting his chin on his crossed hands.

“Damn, that voice. We should have him join us on tour,” he says.

There’s something about the other guy I can’t pinpoint. He still hasn’t turned around, but the way he plays the guitar sends shivers up my spine. The skill, the fluidity. It’s like he’s writing a love letter to the goddess of music.

Only one person ever caused this reaction in me.

I put my hand on Bastian’s knee.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“That’s him.”

“Who?”

“Him.”

“Fuck. You’re serious?”

I look at Bastian. He’s as shocked as I feel.

The guy turns around, and my whole body locks up. I can’t move. I can’t talk. My grip on Bastian’s leg goes so tight that he grabs my hand.

“You were right. He’s good,” Bastian says.

I know.I know.That’s why I spent a year trying to convince the band to add another member. Until that letter.

“I need to get out of here.” Pushing Bastian until he nearly falls down the side of the bench onto the floor, I get out and stand to leave.

One last look,I think to myself, because I’m a sucker for punishment, and if nothing else, I might get some good songs out of this.

Tyler looks in my direction and smiles. Those two front teeth.

Fuck. My. Life.

It’s unlikely he can see me past the spotlights on the stage, but it doesn’t matter. The outcome is the same. I’m totally and utterly destroyed.

Tyler and the other guy look at each other, singing the song’s final verse as Tyler takes it home. When they finish, everyone stands to cheer, and suddenly, the other guy pulls Tyler close and slams his lips onto Tyler’s.

“I’m outta here, guys. You stay if you want. I’ll wait in the van.” I practically run out the door and don’t stop until I’m at the far end of the parking lot, putting as much distance as I can from the building. I turn around when I hear my name.

“We’re with you, man,” Bastian says. “You go, we go.” It’s his mantra. Four kids were thrown in together with only their talent to bind them, and it was enough. They became the brothers I never had, and Bastian declared that day that we’d all have each other’s backs on everything that mattered.

The lump in my throat eases a little. Tyler is the one who let me go. He didn’t let me fight for us. He didn’t want me to pursue our dream because he wasn’t there with me.

Fine. Suit you.

I tap Bastian’s back and walk up to the van. Tomorrow we have a gig to play, and our audience deserves the best Hall of Fame they can get.

20

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